Black Poison
by Anna Scathach
Summary: Bellatrix should be his, and his only, at his mercy. Draco wanted passion and submission. And she had been willing to give him just that. Draco/Bellatrix. Oneshot.


_A/N: Many thanks to all my reviewers, especially those who gave me feedback on the last oneshot, Kiss (a D/G AU romance that tells their story through a series of kisses; go check it out if you haven't!): Mad Hatter, shewhodanceswithsquirrels, Princess Pheonix Tears, Zoe Lestrange and misslimelight. And many thanks to Lady of Azkaban for pointing out my mistakes in this one!  
_

_As for this onehot, honestly, I don't know what came over me. This is NOT, by any means, the kind of situation, or fic, or pairing I normally write. Call it a sudden inspiration, I guess. Hope you like this anyways!_

_Disclaimer: Anything you might recognise (characters, setting, etc.) is not mine, it all belongs to J.K. Rowling, Warner Bros. etc. No copyright infringement intended._

**WARNING: Incest. Sexual violence. Smut. Bad language. **

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_**Black Poison**_

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_Song: 'Poison' by Alice Cooper_

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A door was opened slowly. Faint silvery moonlight shone into a black room. A faint crunch resounded in the midnight air. He stopped for a moment, waiting to see if his noise had woken anyone. But the house was calm and silent as usual as he continued on his nightly quest. Merlin forbid that his father ever found out what exactly his son had been doing when he was supposed to be sleeping. Although Lucius Malfoy wouldn't have cared if Draco were sneaking out to see a woman, he most definitely cared when his long-time mistress was concerned.

But Draco couldn't care less about what his father thought. He, at least, was not married to said mistress' sister. He knew his mother had found out about his father and aunt a long time ago. He couldn't help thinking she had never loved her husband and was glad she didn't have to suffer his 'attentions' anymore.

When he'd reached her door, he opened it cautiously. He knew she would be there – eagerly waiting for him as she had for some time now. He'd simply come here one day, curious and a bit afraid. What teenage boy wouldn't be afraid of Bellatrix Lestrange?

Draco saw her in the dim light of one blood red candle. Covered only by a blanket, she lay there in her bed – waiting for him. For him only.

He stepped into the room, causing the door to fall closed behind him. The floor groaned beneath him. He nearly did, as well, impatient. Desire began to run through his veins at the mere thought of having her – easily the most hated and feared witch of Voldemort's era – beneath him. Desire and lust, this was nothing more. He came here because he wanted to, ever since that day he'd seen he with his father.

She'd been on Lucius' study desk, black hair cascading all over her bare back. His father's hand threaded through it, holding her head in a nearly painful grip, his mouth fixed on hers. From where Draco had been standing, he could see his father's quite comfortable position between her legs. He could distinguish creamy thighs, pale breasts and one rosy nipple that peeked at him from between his father's fingers. Then his father had started moving, thrusting in and out between her thighs. His aunt's head had fallen back, a strangled moan escaping her lips when she began to meet his movements forcefully. His father had hissed, and bent down to take her nipple into his mouth. He must have bitten down hardly, for when Lucius turned his head upwards to kiss her again, Draco could see some drops of a crimson liquid glistening between their sweaty bodies.

At that moment, he had run away, afraid, yet intrigued by the strange scene he'd just seen. He'd been twelve that day. Although that incident had been the first time he'd ever seen his father shagging his aunt, it certainly had not been the last. Over the years, Draco had surprised them in various locations and positions.

In the study, in the library, in the entrance hall, in her bed, although he suspected they never fucked in her mother's bed. He didn't think it made any difference. Probably all the Death Eaters, at least the powerful ones, and certainly Lord Voldemort had had her by then, so why should he care if his father slept with her, as well?

Right now, he hated him for it. Bellatrix should be his, and his only, at his mercy. Draco had been dreaming about her for many years. Over the years, his fantasies had changed slightly. Where a boy had yearned for love and affection, Draco wanted passion and submission.

And she had been willing to give him just that.

One night, she had simply come into his room, covered by nothing but black robes and lacy underwear. She'd opened a clasp, and the robes had fallen down to pool at her feet. The boy he had been could only stare at her naked body. Awe and desire had mixed in his blood when she'd advanced on him. All had seemed to happen very quickly. He remembered how she had pinned him to the bed, undressing him as fast as she could. Then he remembered her body, already wet from sweat. Her kisses, hot, although her mouth tasted like the most repugnant poison. She'd looked at him from beneath half-closed eyelids, as sensual as a black panther and as deadly as a venomous spider.

He'd ripped the lacy bra off her. In the cold air her nipples had instantly hardened. His aunt had pushed his head down, nearly buried in her soft breasts. She'd moaned and dragged her fingernails down his back, drawing warm blood that slowly trickled down his spine.

He remembered feeling her glide down his body, down, down, slowly, teasing, tantalizing. He'd felt her hands, and then her mouth. Hot, although she should have been cold for being so evil, hot had her mouth been as she'd licked, bitten, sucked. Then there had been pleasure. And pain.

Draco had been a boy that day. Yet Bellatrix had been a good teacher to him. He didn't know why she'd kept fucking him, he couldn't have been that good. But maybe it turned her on to sleep with her sister's son, to touch a younger person, to feel a man of her own blood spilling his release into her and to inflict pain to Cissy's beloved, spoiled son.

The memory of that night was still fresh in his mind when he opened the door that lead to her room. A red candle was lit, filling the small room with roaming shadows. Her pale skin glowed against the dark blue velvet of her blanket, her black hair and sharp features contrasting with her sensuous lips. He had always thought Bellatrix' mouth contained some sort of venom, some unknown poison to seduce all the men she could ever want in this world. Despite his repugnance and his hatred for his aunt, her smell and her taste were addictive.

At his entrance her dark eyes flew open. She sat up, revealing crimson undergarments that looked like blood on her fair complexion. Her eyes hungrily appraising his body, his aunt smiled lazily. The moment he had seen that predatory smile, he had sensed an unknown promise in it – and a possible threat.

She called him softly, "Draco". It nearly sounded like a moan of pleasure, although he knew far too well that she didn't call out her lovers' names in ecstasy. He slowly advanced into the room, stopping in front of the bed.

For a moment Draco simply stood in front of her. He watched her closely. Her hair was slightly mussed from sleep – or his father, he thought grimly. Her black eyes were filled with passion and desire and lust, her nipples already hardened.

Draco chuckled. He recalled all too well that one day when she had shown up in his room, stark naked, dripping wet and supposedly looking for a towel. He had known it wasn't polite to stare at someone's boobs like that, but he honestly couldn't have helped himself. His aunt was gorgeous, and so he stared at her nude breasts, unable to utter a word until she had finally left the room to search elsewhere. Today he knew it had all been part of a scheme. She had wanted him, seduced him, and set her deathly poison working.

With a smirk he motioned for her to lie down. They never talked. Never, even in the heat of burning passion, did they share a single world. She lay down on her back, still facing him. With a grin, he blew out the candle and murmured a spell.

Draco heard her hiss. He knew that his aunt's arms and legs were now outstretched in front of him, fixed by invisible chains. Bellatrix hissed and struggled, but she couldn't escape the bonds that were holding her in place so tightly. Watching her body squirm before him, bathed only in the pale moonlight, sent a shiver down his spine. He laughed lightly. For once, he was the one in control, and he wanted to take as much advantage out of the situation as possible.

He made short work of her bra, tearing the lacy fabric apart with one swift movement. Then he lifted his black robes over his head while she was still fighting the chains. He dragged his fingernails down her side, not hard enough to draw blood, but red marks showed on her skin. His aunt drew her breath in sharply. Encouraged, he grinned menacingly.

Draco had never resorted to physical violence when he had fucked her. It had always been his aunt who yearned for blood and pain. Now, however, he felt the physical power he had over the helpless woman writhing in her chains. It was arousing, this knowledge of having her at his mercy, and his mercy only.

He kissed her brutally. When he bit down hard and then licked the crimson blood from her lips, he heard her moan and felt her struggles become more powerful. Their tongues still battling, he trailed his hands down her face, slowly over her black hair without tangling them in it and to her neck where they came to a sudden stop. He saw the look of fear in her eyes and acted on an impulse. All at once, his hands closed around her throat as his mouth attacked hers with a passion he hadn't felt before.

She moaned and gasped and struggled to break free although she knew it was useless. It was all part of her game, part of her enthralling and seducing poison she'd so eagerly concocted to have him and that was now turning against her.

Upon seeing the fiery look of hatred mixed with lust in her eyes, Draco obligingly loosened his grip. His mouth left her greedy lips, trailing down a series of smaller bites down her chin and throat, only stopping to bite down hard on her pulse point. Vampire, he thought, maybe he did have some in his ancestry.

Afterwards he reached her breasts, taking them in his hands. They felt soft, and soft his caresses did begin. Then he replaced his fingers with his tongue and the strokes became longer, sharper, angrier. He glanced at her peaks, hardened, dark and wanton.

Bellatrix' writhing had stopped. He smiled. Brutally he then ripped of the last pieces of sheer fabric that were separating them. Draco stood directly in front of the bed, lowering himself slowly onto her.

Then, with a sharp, sudden thrust he slid into her. He felt her gasp more than he saw it. Her muscles clenched tightly, and he found it hard to restrain himself from forcefully fucking her right there and then. He pulled out, ever so slowly, almost like a real lover would, but not quite. In and out – he quickly established a calm rhythm that had his aunt groaning with disappointment.

With each languid stroke, he felt her body tensing up. And then, suddenly, all self-control was gone. All it had taken was for her to moan his name softly, barely noticeable yet he heard it. That was all the encouragement he'd wanted.

Suppressing a grunt, he slammed into her with full force. Her hips came up to meet his, and when they both felt the tension building higher and higher, he kissed her again. This time it was her who bit him. Blood trickled down his chin, but he didn't care. With a murmur, her restraints were gone and she was digging her fingernails into his back, pulling him closer. He tightened his grip on her breasts, so that he was sure to leave bruises on her already bloody body.

Draco laughed, a lusty, desperate laugh that reflected the insanity he felt caught up in against his will. And then she shoved her mouth onto his with full force, and with one wild thrust he could feel the ecstasy building and his kiss became more urgent as their tongues battled for dominance and he felt his climax building up inside him even faster and her walls were clenching so deliciously tight around him and Merlin he couldn't breathe anymore. One last slam, and he spilled into her, thrusting and thrusting as her walls contracted over and over, milking every last drop of his release. Suddenly, all his previous energy, all his lust and passion were spent.

"I hate you," he gasped.

And it that moment, this was precisely the truth.

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_A/N: This is the first smut fic I've ever written (not to mention the incest). All constructive criticism is appreciated. Review, please!_

_A companion oneshot will be following shortly, called Red Sin, with a Draco/Ginny pairing and lots of smut (but less violence - I think), so check back soon!_

_Anna Scathach_

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